Denise Acabo

I just returned from a trip into Paris and the cutest little chocolate shop. I had wanted to buy some chocolate to take for David's aunt and uncle in England next weekend, so I consulted The Food Lover's Guide to Paris and chose one that was both close by and highly recommended.

The shop is only a few blocks from Moulin Rouge and the girly district. I had expected a sprawling, fashionable shop like Fauchon or the infamous La Maison du Chocolate, but Denise Acabo was a small boutique that looked like it used to be a pharmacy: glass cases, tall heavy wooden shelves, and a large mirror behind the cash register.

Denise herself was just like the book described: pigtailed and round and extremely friendly. I could tell she spoke some English, but she nattered on to me in French and I pretended to understand. She helped me choose a box for the gift and a few other small treats for friends and David, of course.

Then she wrapped everything in paper decorated with old French drawings and showed me how each drawing was an optical illusion. Even the chocolate that I told her was not a gift but for my husband she insisted on wrapping with a red ribbon.

When I told her that the gift box was going to England, she gave me a big lecture on wrapping it in layers of newspaper before the trip. Then she proceeded to fold up pieces of her own newspaper, complete with doodles in the margins, and put in my bag.

You don't even want to know how much it cost, but suffice to say I won't be going there for everyday chocolate.

When I got home Dave immediately broke into his bar. We shared only one square, which was very rich and creamy. The taste is still in my mouth, maybe 20 minutes later.